


my prayers mean nothing while yours mean everything (yet we are already damned)

by FableButt



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Monastery, Fake Marriage, M/M, Post-War, Spoilers, but everyone is alive, byleth can cook a little, fake intimacy, i took canon and smashed it with a hammer till it was a shape i liked better, jeritza centric, jeritza doesn't understand his feelings, jeritza has mild suicidal ideation, touch starved nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FableButt/pseuds/FableButt
Summary: Rain pelts him as he stares down at the body.Crumpled and broken, mud sticking to pale green hair and fat drops of water and blood soaking dark clothes.  Jeritza would have thought them dead if not for the shaky rise and fall of their chest, the shivering of the cold that must have been seeping down into bones.  He grips his sword handle, hand trembling, and knows the best thing to do would be to finish this creature off, this terror disguised as a person, but he finds his strength is not in him.He is not the man he was years ago, was maybe never a man at all.  Something shakes at his core and he swears he hears a voice in his head, hissing and soft, the echo of reverence in her tone."Repent."  She says, and he blinks the vision of a girl with slitted eyes away.  "Repent".  She threatens again, sweet and harsh.  He falls to his knees, legs jelly, as something unfurls in his chest.  He does not know why he cries.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth, Pairings to be added - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 111





	1. binding

**Author's Note:**

> i have been working on this since before jeritza dropped and figured now was better than never!
> 
> been a while since i wrote a fic!
> 
> i think the most important thing is don't go into this expecting canon to be all neat and laid out. i'm kind of doing my own thing tbh lol

Rain pelts him as he stares down at the body.

Crumpled and broken, mud sticking to pale green hair and fat drops of water and blood soaking dark clothes. Jeritza would have thought them dead if not for the shaky rise and fall of their chest, the shivering of the cold that must have been seeping down into bones. He grips his sword handle, hand trembling, and knows the best thing to do would be to finish this creature off, this terror disguised as a person, but he finds his strength is not in him.

He is not the man he was years ago, was maybe never a man at all. Something shakes at his core and he swears he hears a voice in his head, hissing and soft, the echo of reverence in her tone.

"Repent." She says, and he blinks the vision of a girl with slitted eyes away. "Repent". She threatens again, sweet and harsh. He falls to his knees, legs jelly, as something unfurls in his chest. He does not know why he cries.

\---

The monster is a man, Jertiza comes to realize, when he is clean and bandaged and laying still. The monster has not woken up, has not made a sound, even as he was dragged back to Jertiza's small cabin, when broken limbs were being set, when wounds were sutured and sewn. Something about him is small and frail, like this, practically mummified and draped in thin white cotton too large for his frame. Jeritza knows that is a lie, knows the monster is all muscle and teeth and claws; he had fought them before, seen what they could do.

There are no more visions of a dead and forgotten goddess but he can hear whispering sometimes. It is quiet and scratchy, echoing in his mind in a way that makes his head ache.

The monster does not move, does not wake, for days and days and days. Jertiza knows if he does not return to the castle soon someone will come looking for him. He knows what will happen if this man is found in his bed. Yet no matter what measure is taken the other will not wake up.

"And what will you do when he does?" The wind seems to say, mocking.

The best answer is to say nothing, so Jeritza does not acknowledge the ghost and finishes packing his riding gear. A raven had screamed over the trees earlier that day, demanding, and it was sign enough. He wonders about the monster as he mounts his horse but does not dwell. What happens will happen and he has already done more than he should.

The goddess hisses at him as he leaves. "Repent. Repent, fool." He does not look back as he rides into the dense of trees. He can feel a void at his back.

\---

It is a six day ride to the capital from his station. Jeritza arrives in four, horse winded and bags under his eyes. His mask, both real and mental, are carefully in place, not a hair straying in his presentation despite the harsh ride and few stops. He must be stone.

The servants avoid him as he hands off his horse and makes his way through the castle's halls. He knows where to go for his summons as it is always the same. A request of his, one of few, to keep him from the main way so he might not run into company or familiar faces as he goes about his business. A small door opens and Jeritza finds himself inside a small tea room.

Empress Edalgard and her vassal are there already, the dark haired man at her side and placing sugars in her drink for her. She eyes him for a moment and he dips his head, as close to a bow as she will get, and she speaks.

"Ah, I was not expecting you so soon." A lie, they both know it, as he had seen the crows following at his back. She motions to the seat across from her but he stays where he is. He always does. It seems to annoy the vassal as per usual but he is granted these small allowances. She gets a sip of her tea and places it down slowly, measured. "Have you anything to report, Jertiza?"

"I do not." The lie spills from his lips and he does not know why. It would be easy to tell of the monster back at his cabin, of the suspected ghost, of many things. He knows if he keeps it to himself he will die. Something holds his tongue for him and he wonders if the goddess followed him with her harsh whispers.

"I see." She nods to Hubert, who goes to another set of doors and opens them, allowing a man inside. He is rough and scarred, nods to the vassal and then to the Empress. He is stiff and uneasy, his clothes telling of a life on the road and not the pleasures of a noble. A mercenary, he would guess. He eyes Jeritza with something like suspicion. "Jeritza, this is Jeralt Eisner. Mr. Eisner, this is Jeritza Von Hyrm. He oversees the eastern forest border."

Ah. The Blade Breaker. He eyes the other with something like interest. He wonders what it would be like to cross blades with him. If the other man could best him. His fingers twitch in anticipation of grasping his blade before he schools himself. Not here.

"I ain't too much for pleasantries. Have you seen anyone? Anyone reported anything? My band and I were moving through the forest when bandits ambushed up. Lost some good guys. My son also went missing." He crosses his arms, face stony and eyebrows drawn together with something like worry. "About your age, dark armor, green hair. His name's Byleth."

Jertiza thinks of the monster in his bed.

"I have not seen anything and no one has reported finding anyone to me."

Jeralt frowns and doesn't seem to believe him but accepts the answer anyway, shooting a quick glance at Edalgard. This isn't over, his body seems to say, even as he bows deep to her and thanks her before taking his leave the way he came.

"Mr. Eisner is a very skill mercenary. Please keep an eye out for his son, Jeritza." The Empress says, an order despite the framing. He nods to her and leaves, knowing she needs him no longer. Eyes follow him as he goes.

\---

Jertiza is no more than a few steps outside when he has to press himself into an archway. He hopes not to be seen, heart beating in his ears as he presses himself against the wall. Small steps echo before pausing next to his hiding spot. It feels like he is breathing too loud.

The footsteps continue, a woman and her husband who pass by. She seems confused, short bob of hair and kind eyes. Her belly is plump and round, glowing with health from the pregnancy. That was much too close. She would have too many questions for a boy who died long ago.

When Jertiza crawls from his hiding spot, calmed down, he stares at where the pair went and wonders. Why here? Why now? Was that red haired noble taking good care of her? Did she want to marry him? Want to bare his child? Did she-

"Ah, Jeritza." He startles as a soft voice pulls him from his thoughts, whirling on whoever spoke his name. He sees green hair with big curls, sharp eyes, small frame. It is almost an unwelcome a sight as seeing... her. But not as much. The girl-who-is-not-a-girl gives him a kind smile, far kinder than he deserves. He is always surprised to see her, in pretty dress and well cared for, the only thing showing she is not like the others here the iron shackle around her neck, sealed with magic and glowing with runes.

He does not answer her.

"I'm glad I was able to catch you before you left! Would you like to join me for tea?" She offers, she always offers, with warmth he does not deserve in her eyes. Not after what he had done.

"No." And he moves to go. She does not stop him, only stares after him with a pitying frown until he is out of sight.

\---

He makes it back to his cabin in seven days time, held up by storms. Or so he tells himself as he stares at the cabin with dread, wondering what awaits him inside. Nothing would be... for the best. Jeritza can pretend it was madness that claimed him, finally, and there was never a monster or a ghost haunting him.

It is quiet and dark when he enters. A chill is in the air and the clouds above promise snow, so he builds a fire. His bedroom door is closed firmly. If he is stalling in opening it then it should worry no one. This post is empty aside from himself, the closest town a full day's ride away. There is no one here to rush him as he takes the time putting away his things, checking his larder for the coming snow, washing up, placing more wood in the fire.

Eventually he must enter his room, he needs to change and the tiredness leeches into his bones from his ride. So he opens the door- to find the monster still asleep, unmoved from the last he saw him. There is the temptation to grab his sword and push through the beast's throat, to throw him outside and not worry about him any longer. Instead, he undresses sloppily and pulls out something clean. His bed is... tempting. It is colder in here, even with the fire slowly warming his cabin, and his blankets are thick and the bed plush. He was not one to care about such luxuries but when they were presented... it was hard to pass up habit. Even if he was a tool of the Empress, she had made sure to give him more than just the most basic to fill his needs.

It was likely that the monster would not wake up from one night of sleep in his bed. All of the riding he had done had made him sore, or maybe he was growing weak, as he had left as soon as his audience with Edalgard was completed. The idea of curling up in the chair in the living room where he had been resting before was unappealing.

He also blamed the ghost, the goddess, softly berating him in words he could not catch, much like a mother would, or maybe a frustrated older sibling, even if she was cold.

So Jeritza crawled under the blankets and curled up, back to the monster, and surprised himself by how quickly he fell asleep.

\---

Dreams were not unusual to Jeritza. They crawled under his skin and haunted him with visions of his deeds. This one, however, makes his hair stands on end and goosebumps prickle as he was far too... lucid. The smell of smoke and burning flesh was absent as well, rousing more suspicion than relief.

He was standing in a room which was dark, a single light over top an imposing stone throne. Jertiza had only just gotten his bearings when he realized that someone was sitting there, had always been sitting there, her cheek resting in her hand as she eyed him, unimpressed. She was tiny, a child, sitting on a throne made for a creature much larger. Yes something about her unnerved him to his core. This girl was not a mortal. This girl was something eternal.

"I see. How is it you know that?" Haughty like a spoiled child in her demand. Jeritza found he did not know. How did he know she was a goddess? He drew a blank. It was as if his head was filled with cotton and he raised a brow; he could almost feel her peeling back the layers of his mind to peer inside. Cold fear washed down his spine.

"Not much of a talker, I see. Much like...." She clicked her tongue, straightened up. "Tell me. What are you?"

Jertiza's tongue felt heavy in his mouth but he knew he had to answer. Could feel the words bubbling up his throat and out of his mouth like vomit. He wanted to grind his teeth together and hold them back. Knew that would fail as well.

"I am... a ghost." The truth, his truth, dredged out of him. Saying the words was the same as spitting up sludge. She narrowed her eyes in something like pity. His cheeks burned at her look, both from his emotional gates being torn open and his realization his mask was gone. Bare for her judgment in all ways.

"You are a pathetic creature." She sighed, disappointed but not surprised, it seemed, and waved off his answer. "Now, your name."

"Jeritza."

"No." Her voice hardened. "Your name."

He found he did not know what she was talking about. Something else slithered up his throat. Something that felt like molten metal.

"Emile." He gagged on that name. Gagged on it and visions of a boy long dead swam to the surface before he pushed them back.

"Thank you." A pleased but wicked smile on her face, pointed fangs gleaming in the light. "Emile, you must understand. You're caught up in fate now. You can't escape this. Repent, Emile. Repent for what you've done."

\---

For such an abrupt ending to his dream, Jertiza wakes slowly. His body feels asleep, disjointed, and he cracks open his eyes slowly. It is warm in his bed, far warmer than before, and the smell of something cooking fills the air and makes his stomach grumble. When was the last time he had eaten? It is as he sits up he feels a wrongness, tries to clear the sleep from his mind to pinpoint what.

Ah, yes, the monster was gone.

Which shook from out of whatever sweetness he had awoken into, causing him to tumble out of his bed and grasp blindly for his sword. His bedroom door slammed open as he moved through it, the wood bouncing on the wall and shaking. The monster is sitting in front of the fire and jumps, glances over with a mild but surprised look. A knife in his hand... peeling potatoes.

Jertiza stares at him, knuckle white grip on his sword, frozen in the doorway. The monster stares back, blinks slowly, face relaxes into something blank and passive before he starts his work again. The potato peeling is one long spiral. The monster nods to him before looking away, drops the peel in a bowl at his feet and slices the potato into small chunks, dropping them with 'plips' into a pot set up over the fire.

Jeritza watches- watches as the monster stirs the pot, peels carrots, drops them in, stirs again. He is rooted to his spot, mind racing and blank at the same time. The monster stands and picks up his scraps, places the knife inside and sets them in his modest kitchen for now. He still has the soft sleep clothes on, warm and loose and Jeritza does not know why his eyes are drawn to that.

The monster approaches. Jeritza readies his blade, so when it attacks he can slice the head off, put this creature and the goddess behind him and move on. It stops in front of him, face still empty, head tilted slightly to the side. One corner of a lip is cracked up, barely noticeable for those who wouldn't know to look. Jeritza knows how to look for such things.

"Hello." It speaks. "Thank you." It continues, and then it backs away with a small nod, moves back to the pot, sits by the fire again to warm it's hands. It looks so human. He wants to stab it. Instead his sword grip slackens and drops to the floor with a clatter. Something eats at his chest, killing him from the inside out, and Jeritza moves to sit in his chair and wonder how he came to this. The fire crackles and time passes, oozing slowly when his eyes are open but zipping by in large chunks when he blinks. A bowl of stew in pressed against his hands, eventually, which he takes and merely stares into.

The monster eats as if starved, bowl after bowl vanishing down his throat. Enough to have fed Jeritza, alone, for days is gone eventually. The pot moved to clean later. His own food is now cold when he, eventually, takes a bite.

The monster seems antsy now, glancing over at him from time to time, shifting slowly in place.

"Why are you still here?" When he speaks, slow and measured, the monster stops his fidgeting.

"There's snow outside."

Was there? Jeritza glanced out the window to see that, yes, it looked like while he had been asleep it had come quite the downpour, thick and fluffy flakes still falling as a thick blanket that coated whatever it touched.

"Hm." He stood, slowly, his joints protesting after sitting in the same position for so long. He had things to do and it did not involve the monster, curious as it was. He went into his room again, collecting his sword as he went and shutting the door behind him. Soon he was dressed, having pulled out one of his thicker pairs of winter boots and pulling a heavier cloak over his frame.

The monster was in his kitchen again when he came back out, scouring the dishes and taking care of the scraps.

"Where are you going?" It asked, quietly, blankly, as Jeritza opened the front door, cold wind sucking the heat from the room and stray snowflakes stinging his cheeks.

"Work." Is all he replied, which the monster seemed to accept even if curious eyes still followed him as he left.

Yes, he had to do his job.

\---

Jeritza returns with blood under his nails and chilled to the bone. He expects his normal routine, falling into the blackness of sleep after to rise and rinse and repeat.

Instead the cottage is warm and glowing from within. He opens his door and for a moment is worried that he stumbled into someone else's home before it catches up with him. The monster had a basic but warm meal ready and it smells like spices and comfort. The monster nods to him and his lips quirk up. Jeritza slams the door behind him.

There is a question in those blank eyes that goes unasked. Jeritza ignores him and goes to wash the blood off his skin. It will stain his soul but that is for later, when he is dragged into hell for his sins.

His meal is slightly scorched but he eats it all anyway, ravenous, and it fills a hole inside of him before it can bleed out and reduce him to nothing.

"My name is Byleth." The monster says this as he cleans up the remnants of their meal, sitting across from him. A chipped tea set sits between them, dug from some back cabinet and dusted off. Jeritza was not even aware he had any tea leaves in the cabin. It tastes watered down and weak but the sting of it going down his throat makes him feel... something.

"I do not care." He hisses, quiet. The monster, Byleth, does not flinch, only frowns and refills his cup.

"You were limping when you came back. Are you okay?"

Jeritza does not answer him, refused to speak to him any longer, even as those sea green eyes seem to stare into his very soul. He thinks he sees a shadow in the corner, a girl with long hair, but she in unclear and it is easy to say his eyes are playing tricks. The fire crackles quietly.

Eventually his body demands rest, so he goes to his bed. To his surprise, a bit later, Byleth crawls in behind him. There is a numbness there. A deep exhaustion. It prickles under his skin like hot irons and he wants to cast the man away. But Jeritza is cold, as cold inside as he is out, and Byleth is warm as he curls under the sheets. He his dreams are pleasant, sharp teeth ripping his throat out.

Disappointment settles in his chest when he wakes up.

"Jeritza." He says, low and careful, staring down into a morning plateful of eggs. The monster smiles, small and fragile. He can see the sharp points of his fangs and wishes for them to sink into his flesh.

\---

It goes on and on, a new routine, forced into his life in slow measures. Jeritza leaves the cabin warm and full, a difference from his old normal. He returns to food, to soft company, sometimes a gentle smile that twists like a knife in his chest. They curl together when it is time to sleep, only for the warmth, he tells himself. One night when sleep won't come he stares at the ceiling and wonders if this is what his life Could Have Been, had he not been what he is how, had it been different. Was this what returning to someone you loved was like? Would he have had kids by now, bright faces smiling up at him and reaching tiny hands? Would he have wanted that? He counts his breaths and Byleth sighs, presses closer, heat against his side.

The specter in the corners goes... vivid. It is like she is slowly fading in from nothing, each day a little more solid and yet not at all. She speaks, sometimes, moves around the house as if floating, watching and waiting. She is the same as his dream, eyes sharp when her eyes rake over him, seeing through him.

Byleth never asks about the blood splattered on his sword or the hollowness of his eyes. Once, a bad day, the other had bandaged a sprained wrist and cleaned his wounds. Jeritza had been quiet, had been appreciative in his own way, had wondered why the other was staying. Wondered why he didn't ask him to leave.

The crows start to gather and Jeritza ignores them. They are do not all come at once. One flies over, his signal, and he ignores it. Then another, a few days later, and eventually they follow him and haunt the outside of the cabin with beady eyes. He is putting them off as he feels like the small peace he has will break. He wonders if Byleth has left the cabin; if the crows had seen.

Jeritza comes home early, one day, a hunt drawn short as his lead was faulty. Words, quiet, cause him to pause in the doorway, barely cracked, listen. His heart thumps and he wonders why it feels like he is going to slit in two.

"-orried about you!" Young, female. It takes him a moment to recognize it as the ghost's, when he dreamed of her. It makes him shiver to hear it again, sharp and loud. He inches the door open, glances inside, finds that Byleth and the ghost has their back to him- good. She curls around his shoulders like a cat as she floats there. He seems to be slowly chopping some type of vegetable.

"I know." Byleth answers, voice flat as it always was. "I'll contact him soon enough."

"'Soon enough, soon enough'!" The goddess mocks, voice pitched low. "You keep saying that!"

"My leg and arm..."

"Are perfectly healed now! Why do you keep putting this off, Byleth?"

"I..." The chopping pauses, it is quiet until the ghost laughs, loud and high pitched, and Jeritza sees Byleth shrink into him himself, shoulders tense and by his ears. The green haired girl tips her head back and cackles louder at this.

"It's because of Emil-"

Lava floods his chest and burns his ears. Jeritza pushes the door open roughly, causing both the girl and Byleth to flinch and jerk to face him. He stares, hard, and he goddess floats away from the green haired man, looking amused after her shock wears off. Jeritza does everything in his power to keep his eyes locked on Byleth, to not look at the girl who hovers.

"Who are you talking to?" He says instead of what he wants to say.

Byleth takes a breath, short and sharp. "Just myself." He fidgets. A terrible liar. His pale cheeks are tinted pink and he can not meet Jeritza's eyes.

Blood catches his attention and Jeritza glances down, sees that the other man has sliced his finger. It oozes slowly, a fat drop looking ready to drip to the floor. He sighs through his nose, forces himself to relax. "You're bleeding."

"Ah? Oh." Byleth flexes his fingers, smearing the drop, glances at it as if just noticing. He turns back to the sink and starts to wash the cut, places the knife with the other dirty dishes. Jeritza watches and watches and watches, till his feet move on their own, and soon he has Byleth's hand in his. His medical supplies are easy to pull out and he bandages him slowly.

His hands are warm in his, Jeritza realizes slowly, and when his work is done he is reluctant to let him go. Glancing at the other, Byleth is looking up at him from under his lashes. They are long, he notes, and the light seems to make his gem green eyes glow and sparkle. The other's pale cheeks are flushed and rosy, too, lips parted slightly and pouty. It is still between them, something... something sparking. Electric. Expectant.

A crow caws loudly outside and Jeritza snaps back to reality, backs away from the other and turns his back. His chest hurts again, that stabbing sensation, and he feels the knife there dig in deeper. He wants to kill this feeling.

It is quiet the rest of the evening, even as Byleth finishes cooking. Dinner is filling as it always is, at least, but when it's finished a hesitant bowl is sat in front of him. Snow from outside mixed with... something. Byleth is looking away, his own, much smaller, serving in his hands.

"It's snow cream." He started, hesitant. "Just... snow, some sugar, a little milk. My father used to make it." He takes a breath, looks like he has more to say, but instead stuff a spoonful of the snow into his mouth and glances at the fire.

It is not as rich or ornate as other sweets but Jeritza finishes every bite.

\---

The next day brings a stock of the larger, which is lacking, yet Jeritza expected as much. Before, with one person, it would have been enough to do for a while yet. There were two of them now and Byleth ate perhaps even more than his horse. Begrudgingly, he will make a trip to town so they can make it through the rest of winter. He asks Byleth if there is anything in particular he needs or wants, seeing his eyes light up before dimming back down. The list is made quickly, at least.

"Jeritza." He adjusting his mask and getting ready to saddle up Mercy when Byleth pauses in the doorway to the bedroom. He holds a fold of paper in his hand, offers it to him slowly. "Would you... sent this to Remire Village for me?" Jeritza looks it over, takes it slowly and unfolds it.

A simple letter, written quickly. Byleth's writing is rough and basic, not the fancy curl of a noble's. "I'm safe. I'm okay. I'll see you. -B. E." Is what it says, a crude drawing of what might be a fan in the corner. He reads it, then once more, then folds it back up and sticks it in his pocket, nodding as he does so. Byleth looks relived, at least, before he steps over to the wardrobe and opens it up. He pulls out a belt, the one that Jeritza had found him in. All of the clothes, even the dark armor, had been cleaned by Byleth, placed inside. Neither of them talked about it.

One of the pouches on the belt is opened up and whatever is removed is forced into Jeritza's hand.

"Here. I know that I..." He sigh, looks away. "If you... need it." Byleth does not look happy about this, quickly places the belt back and exits the room, wringing his hands and stiff. Jeritza finds it to be a ring, a very nice one, most likely a wedding ring. It is delicate and silver, rainbow hued stones glinting in the light. It is a lovely thing, meant for a dainty hand and most likely something precious for the other to even have it.

Jeritza ponders on why Byleth gave it to him. Then he sighs, clicks his tongue. "He wants me to pawn it." Is muttered to himself, a frown tugging at his lips. He huffs and tears off one of his gloves, slips it on a finger for now. A little tight but it is the safest place to not lose it by accident. Byleth clearly does not understand that such things are taken care of. Yet, it is not as if Jeritza has spoken of himself, of what he does and who he is. It seems easier to just keep the ring for now and bring it back with him when he returns, saying he didn't need it. That would be easier than explaining.

It does serve to remind Jeritza, however, of something he has yet to do. He stands, and he does not flinch when he sees that the ghost is watching him now, peering deeply into his being. It is best to not acknowledge her; he is sure that she does not know she can see him. He opens one of his drawers and reaches to the back of it, to an envelope he had nailed to the back when he first moved in. A ring of his own falls out, rose gold with a large ruby gem. It is inlaid with black, smaller black gems surrounding it. It was always tacky to him, too large and staring at it too long made him slightly nauseous.

It is dropped in Byleth's palm before he leaves.

"If anyone comes here, just show them that." Not that Jeritza imagined they would, no one ever came here. Better to be safe than sorry. Byleth nods, stares at him as he leaves.

"Be safe." The monster says, quietly, and Jeritza wonders if he is a monster at all.

\---

The ride to town and back is cold. Mercy moves quickly despite the ice and Jeritza finds himself almost eager to return. A full day to make it to town, a day of gathering his supplies and making sure Byleth's letter would make it to Remire, then a full day's ride back. The air is still and he is anxious, something clawing at the back of his mind, something he is forgetting as he makes his way through the trees.

A white horse is tethered in his stable. The crows perch on every tree and stare, silent.

Hands shake as Jeritza tethers Mercy, unloads her supplies to bring inside. It takes a surprising amount of willpower to not just go inside, to pretend this is normal, that whatever strange feeling inside him is not there. He must remember what he is here to do.

The cabin is warm and smells like food. Byleth is sitting there, calm, and the ghost sits behind him, tense. A man with long red hair sits across from him, a chipped teacup in hand. They all turn to him. Silence.

"Von Hyrm!" The man starts, and Jeritza knows who it is, wonders why he of all people was sent. He seems to radiate sunshine in a way that makes him sick, smile too wide for his face. "Why, sorry for popping in so unexpectedly!" Jeritza ignores him, strips off his gloves to and starts to unload his supplies, packing them away.

Von Aegir eyes him, raises a brow, grin still stretching his lips.

"Her Empress was worried about you after not checking in for so long! But I see you were fine... You husband here was telling me about how you were taking care of him!" Von Aegir beams and Byleth chokes on his tea, coughing softly, which draws the redhead's attention for a moment. Jeritza freezes as well, ice running cold. Husband?

He remembers the ring on his hand, sees it sparkling in the light.

He glances over at Byleth, sees the Von Hyrm ring on his hand as well.

Oh no.


	2. quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"They're gone, now." Still quiet, back to normal, even if Byleth licked his kiss bruised lips and had blossoms of sucked bruises on his neck. When had Jeritza done that? He pulled himself away and went to wash his face, needing a moment to himself and to sort things out. This was infuriating. Horrible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil bit of smooching happens this chapter so be warned if you're not into that! but nothing more
> 
> hey look at my twitter and be my friend plz :D 
> 
> https://twitter.com/FableButt

Mercy is not pleased to be ridden again after such a short rest. Von Aegir leads them, vibrant in both looks and speech. He was leading them back to the castle personally, it seemed, as it was 'urgent' that he returned. When pressed, however, he just gave a coy smile and promised it was 'a surprise' which did little to quell Jeritza's nerves. Worse yet was that he had insisted Byleth come with them for whatever reason. Said man was dressed in that black armor that had been packed up for so long, pressed against his back and arms wrapped around him tightly.

(When the armor was in place, Byleth had touched the empty scabbard at his hip. "I never saw it." Jeritza had answered, honestly, and Byleth had frowned but nodded. He had refused a replacement.)

They chatted amicably. Well, Byleth and Aegir did, more so Aegir between the two of them. A few teasings at Byleth expressing his lack of skill with horseback, knowledge of the region, the art of wielding a lance. The most animated Byleth had been, however, was when the conversation had come around to tea, the ways to prepare it, the finest to drink, what snacks to serve with each one. It was no wonder that the other had gravitated to the little tea set that sat in his house, had tried to fix what he could with Jeritza's meager tea supplies.

Their first night at an inn, Aegir had the two of them take the room together, as he 'did not want to keep the happy couple apart'. "Jeritza," Byleth had said, quietly, slowly stripping off his armor. "we should tell him we're not really married."

"No." Was what he replied with, too quick to not earn himself a raised eyebrow from the spirit who was still following them. Who haunted Byleth? Nothing more was said about it that night but Byleth did press his cold feet against Jeritza's legs under the blanket, as if in his own protest.

"Jeritza," The next stay at an inn, this one nicer than the one before, since it was closer to the capital. "why do we need to pretend to be married?" To which Jeritza did not answer, only finished the slice of cheesecake that Byleth did not want from their meal. He got both cold feet and cold hands pressed to his back for that one, along with the repeated question every night. The frown grew on the ghost's face and you could see worry eating at her small frame.

"Byleth," Finally, quietly, he whispered in Byleth's ear as the capital come into view. The other was in front of him now, nestled between his thighs as Mercy plodded forward at her own pace. Aegir was well ahead of them, chatting with one of the guards and showing documentation none of them really needed. "it's not safe for you here." Byleth shivered against him as they rode through the gate.

\---

Instead of his normal routine of seeing Edalgard and then leaving, a servant met the three of them. Aegir departed after that, wishing them well and promising to stop by and chat before they left. The two of them were led to one of the guest quarters and told that someone would be to fetch them shortly for dinner. Byleth sat on the too-plush bed and frowned, eyes never leaving Jeritza.

"I thought you were just a huntsman." A pause. "Or a recluse."

Jeritza did not glance over at him, busied himself with checking over his travel bag.

"You work for the Empress directly." A soft sigh. "... thank you for keeping my ring." Jeritza clenched the hand it was on into a fist out of reflex at that.

"We should freshen up." It was dinner. This was a different game than the private tea times. Certain things were expected and smelling like horse and travel was not one of them. "You can have the first bath." Another soft sigh, followed by the creaking of the bed, and then Byleth had shut the bathroom door behind them. He wondered if Byleth had ever met royalty before, having been a mercenary. (He assumed a mercenary since The Blade Breaker had been asking for him...) He wondered if he had spoken to more than minor lords, had even been in a place such as this with magic warmed water that flowed through pipes.

Jeritza wondered why he was doing all of this.

There was a knock on the door and whoever it was had let themselves in before he could do much more than turn around. Von Vestra let himself in, dour as always, scowl darkening his features. It almost tugged at something like guilt in his chest for the briefest of moment. Hubert (along with Edalgard, before her ascension) were perhaps the closest things he had ever had to friends; in Hubert's case, for a time maybe a little bit more. To upset them was... not his intention and something her certainly didn't enjoy. He had grown distant from them in recent years, more of his own doing and request than anything. The Empress and her right hand did not need to have someone like himself marring their names, after all.

"So, I hear that you're... married now?" There was disbelief there as well as something like bitterness under that. Hubert had been the one to wear a ring before any of them, though. The Varley girl was a fitting bride even if she was a recluse. There had been some stirrings of an argument between Vestra and Aegir not long after the proposal was announced but Jeritza was not one for gossip. It also was not his concern if Hubert left a... surprising amount of broken hearts in his wake. Still, given that, he found it a bit hypocritical. Instead of answering, Jeritza removed his riding glove and showed off the silver ring on his hand. The ghost slipped through the wall and into the bathroom out of the corner of his eye.

"I didn't take you as the type to neglect your duties like this, Jeritza. You could have at least sent word back to us."

"I have not been neglecting my duties. I simply...." He frowned, looked at the ring on his hand again. He... had neglected his duties by not killing or handing over Byleth as soon as he had found him. Still, he had been going out every day and... doing what needed to be done. He had ensured it was done, even. "I have not been neglecting my duties."

"There have been reports of a mass movement on the eastern border. How can you-"

"Jeritza?" Both of their attention snapped towards the bathroom as it clicked open. Byleth was not dressed, it seemed, just a towel loosely wrapped around his hips and another over his head. He was still dripping, in some places, and his body was riddled with scars. Jeritza couldn't help but take them in. They did not change in front of one another. The biggest scar was a star-burst on his chest, over his heart, an ugly thing with raw edges. He wondered how he had gotten it.

Stepping out, Byleth frowned. It looked like the only thing he was wearing other than the towels was the ring, thankfully. Hubert cleared his throat and averted his eyes though Byleth didn't seem to have any shame about his nudity at all. The other eyed Hubert, his face his usual blank and passive, not seeming intimidated by the other man at all. If only Byleth knew the things that Hubert had done, the things he could and would do in the future.

"Did I take too long? I'm sorry. I thought it would be longer before it was time to eat."

"Ah, no." Straightening, Hubert cleared his throat and tried to look the part of a welcoming host, though Jeritza found it didn't have much success in his eyes. "The Empresses Consort and some of the Ladies here in the castle were hoping to have tea with you before dinner." Jeritza wondered how much of that was true and how much was an easy lie. At least Byleth simply nodded and stepped back into the bathroom. Hubert peered at him harshly as they waited, his look promising this was not over with. Byleth stepped back out dressed again in his armor, it was likely the nicest thing he owned to wear, and while still damp looked much fresher than before.

"Right this way, then." Hubert nodded to Byleth when he seemed to be ready. Without hesitating, Byleth stepped towards Jeritza first, lifting himself on his tiptoes so he could press a quick kiss on his cheek. Then he was following Hubert, leaving a Jeritza with his face burning.

He stood and stared at the closed door, alone now. He was still pink when he finally went to clean himself up; if he was going to die today he wanted at least to smell pleasant.

\---

As Jeritza had expected, with Byleth dropped off to who-knew-where, Hubert had returned to fetch him. As it turned out, it seemed he would be having his private meeting with Edelgard after all.

Sitting across from her felt tenser than it normally did, her face severe in a way that was rarely directed at him. Hubert sat between then at the small table, fingers laced together and silent. Jeritza took a small sip of his tea. He tasted no obvious poisons.

"Jeritza...." She started, paused, sighed. "This is...." Another false start. She straightened herself up. "You know that we become... worried. Why have you not responded to us in so long?" 'When Aegir was sent, we expected to find a body' went unsaid between them. He placed his teacup down slowly, barely making a sound as it touched the porcelain plate.

"I... got married." Slowly, quietly, he tasted the words in his own mouth. He lifted his hand for Edelgard to inspect. She took his hand and tilted it from side to side, much like he had seen people do when showing off to friends. "I allowed myself to be... distracted."

"Jeritza..."

"But," He continued, quiet but sharp. "I have been continuing to do what I was sent to do."

It was quiet between the three of them, for a while. Edelgard took a small sip of her own tea. The silence was killing him slowly.

"That is... Eisner's son. When we spoke last, you said you hadn't seen him. You also reported that nothing unusual had happened."

"Yes." He nodded slowly. "He was unconscious when I found him and hurt. At that time, I did not know he was The Blade Breaker's son. I also did not see him as merit to mention. You know how people sometimes 'end up' in those woods." Not quite a lie and not quite the truth, either.

"This is very suspicious, Von Hyrm." Hubert cut in, sharp and cold. He smiled, unpleasant. "We have reason to believe that something more is going on. You're our first line of defense. Out there all alone, it would be easy to-"

"Hubert." The Empress' tone was sharp. "Jeritza. What Hubert is saying is true. If you had not checked in, that would be one thing. But the sudden marriage, the secrets..."

Jeritza looked down, unable to meet her eyes suddenly. He... he really didn't have a way to prove his innocence in this, did he? There were few things worse than the implications, especially when he had sullied his hands to stop _them_ with such a fervor since the war ended. In that same vein, he was always the perfect target, in the end.

Something small and tender cracked in his chest, not at the idea of his own death but that Byleth might get caught in this crossfire. If he was not killed outright for this, if they found out what he was.... He thought of the girl with the iron collar, of her father who stood by and watched with hate in his eyes. He thought of the fallen beast he had felled himself, how it had been taken apart piece by piece to study. He thought of the monster under the castle, chained and crying endlessly, calling in vain for her mother.

A fate worse than death.

"... please." Pleading was not in him, not a tone his voice knew, but he lowered himself to it, voice soft around the edges. He absently touched the ring, rubbed his thumb over the stones. "I have... never... found someone quite like him. I am something only made for killing and he still... please, no matter what is done to me... he is an innocent."

The silence was heavy and Jeritza felt raw and open, a soft part of him ripped from his chest that he had always guarded so carefully.

"I see." Edelgard finally spoke, quiet. "That is not the only reason I needed to speak with you." Another pause. "Please go back to your room for now. Dinner will start soon."

\---

After a quick escort, Jeritza found that Byleth had beaten him back. The other was seated on the bed and frowning to himself. A flat gift box was sitting on one of the desks, unwrapped but closed, and it looks like a few bottles full of things he couldn't identify set next to it. Byleth nodded to him when he came in but carefully looked away from the dresser.

He was curious but tired and decided not to press for the moment. It was quiet between them, comfortable, and Jeritza slowly felt himself relax. It was too soon that there was a knocking on the door, a meek woman in servant's clothing come to fetch the two of them. They walked next to one another, staring ahead, though Byleth seemed to be somewhere else even as his face was as carefully neutral as ever.

The dining hall was as grand as Jeritza last remembered. Even with the Empress' changes movement was slow. For now, old power and money mingled with new creating tension. There would always be someone in charge, as it were. Many eyes laid on the pair as they entered, studying, judging their threat. Soon most were going back to their groups, chatting quietly between themselves.

At the far end of the table was where the Empress and her Consort would sit, empty now, and also where only those who were the most privileged of guests would be able to sit. This is also where a pink-haired woman was sitting, next to someone that Jeritza recognized as Von Vestra's wife and across from Aegir. The pink-haired woman perked up when she spotted them, raising a hand and waving to Byleth while she smiled and motioned for them to approach. Von Vestra's wife looked like she would rather melt into the floor, or maybe die, stunned and pale. Byleth glanced at Jeritza before nodding towards the pair and approaching them.

"Hello, friends! I am so glad that you could join us for this meal, today!" Aegir Pulled out an empty chair next to him and Jeritza sat down slowly. After a moment, Byleth was seated next to the pink-haired woman, across from himself. Aegir seemed pleased, at least, and a furious whispering started up from farther down the table and he could feel eyes on them again. Jeritza did not attend these types of functions often and he was not surprised that many of them did not know him. Still, Ferdinand continued, undeterred. "I do not believe you have been introduced to my lovely wife! Von Hyrm, this is Hilda. Hilda, this is Jeritza Von Hyrm. He takes care of the eastern border so he is not in here in the capital very often. Hilda, this man across from him is-"

"It's okay, Ferdie! Bernie and I met Byleth earlier!" She grinned at Byleth, turning to him with something like mischief in her eyes. "So, Bylie, did you find that stuff we sent you?"

Byleth, interestingly enough, flushed at that. It was not the soft pink that Jeritza had seen before but a scarlet that stretched all the way to his ears. It was... an interesting reaction. He found himself unable to look away from it. Hilda giggled behind her hand and Byleth ducked his head slightly.

".... -itza?" He blinked and snapped his attention away from Byleth, finding an amused looking Ferdinand looking back at him. He gave him a knowing smile, face soft in a way that made something uneasy bubble in his gut. "Ah, I apologize." He was practically glowing and Jeritza felt a little like it was his turn to melt into the floor, feeling his cheeks grow warm. Hilda seemed quite pleased with herself as well and Vestra's wife seemed to have relaxed as well, marginally.

Before anyone else could continue this banter, Edelgard and her wife, Dorothea, strode in and took their seats at the head of the table, Edelgard on his side and Dorothea on Byleth's. Hubert followed, sitting next to her and across from his wife, on the opposite side of Ferdinand.

Dinner was served after and things quieted down once again. It had been a long time since Jeritza had come to one of these sorts of dinners, all etiquette and old fashioned nonsense as it was. There was no need for so many forks and spoons and knives for different things. It was more tradition than anything, one that he was secretly glad was only for certain dinners such as this instead of an everyday affair as it had been for much of his life before the war.

It was on the third course that he noticed eyes on him. Jeritza had paused before continuing to eat, glancing over at some heated-yet-friendly conversation going on between Hubert and Ferdinand. It was when he glanced back to his meal he noticed that Byleth had not touched his food yet, which was odd given how much of an appetite that the man had. He eyed him, earning a blank stare back in return, and finally, Jeritza reached for the appropriate spoon to go with this soup. Byleth mirrored him, picking up the same one, and waited for Jeritza to take a bite before he finally dug in. This happened for the next two courses before Jeritza realized that... Byleth was a mercenary before this. There was little to no reason that he had ever had the sort of training on this kind of thing before. Jeritza placed his fork down slowly and stared at Byleth until the other looked up. He tilted his head slightly, pale green eyebrows knitting as the corners of his lips dipped.

"You don't need to do that." It was said quiet but firm. This made the other man shake his head lightly and his frown deepens into something like a petulant pout. "You do not need to worry about making me look bad." A small huff. "It doesn't matter to me." Byleth lowers his head and glances up at him from under his eyelashes. "It doesn't."

The two of them study one another and Jeritza realizes it is very... quiet from one side of the table. Whatever chatter that Dorothea, Ferdinand, Hilda, and the others were having has stopped, six sets of eyes watching Jeritza and Byleth. Most of them have something like astonishment in them, lips curling upwards into amazed smiles, though Hubert's is more assessing. Jeritza clears his throat and goes back to his food, as does Byleth after a moment. He continues to mimic his utensils but nothing else is said about it.

After what feels like an eternity, dessert is finally brought around. Jeritza is grateful; he does not have the same appetite that Byleth does to clean every plate and was starting to get very full. The sweet slice of strawberry cake he knows will not be wasted, at least. Just as he is savoring the first bite, a second piece of cake is slid next to his. The only difference is that the strawberry halves which had been sitting on top of the pillows of cream have been plucked off.

"I don't want it to go to waste." He explains and sits backs. There is a small bit of cream on the corner of his lip. Jeritza finds he wants to wipe it off.

Instead, he goes back to his cake. This time, he does not notice the eyes of Edelgard on him. If he had, he might have caught how they had softened as she had watched the exchange between them.

\---

Dinner ends with idle chatter and many trying to gain the Empress' attention. They are whisked away to a more private room, set up for company and tea already brewed and sitting in fresh cups around the table. It is a well lit and warm, a few decorations sitting around and Dorothea sitting by her wife's side. Not as stifling as the private meeting earlier. The consort seemed taken with Byleth, at least, taking his arm as she might one of the other court ladies as they had walked.

"Jeritza, I am not sure if you are aware, but the new Margrave of House Gautier's wife is almost ready to have their child. They have visited a few times asking for you, but..." Edelgard placed her tea down, trailing off and sighing. "Well, you were sent a formal letter of invitation to the child's birthing."

Jeritza stiffened.

"I will not force you to go...."

"No, I understand." Even if they were at peace now, given the previous conflict with Faerghus it would be unseemly to turn down a direct request. Jeritza was no man of politics but he had been raised around them, knew them well enough. It would be unwise to slight the other country in even a small way given the circumstances.

"Alright. I will ensure that preparations for your travel are made. I request you to stay here for the next few days while things are settled."

"Of course."

"Think of it as a chance for a honeymoon!" Dorothea cut in, grinning behind her hand. Byleth's face flamed up again and he gave her a slightly scathing look before staring very deeply into his tea. What was all that about?

"Thank you for being so kind." Byleth finally muttered glancing up at Edelgard after he had calmed down. "You don't have to do any of this."

"Jeritza has been a trusted and loyal friend for many years. He asks for little and works hard for the Empire. I wish for him to rest while he is able." Edelgard answered, smooth but with no room for nonsense in her voice. Byleth nodded at that, quietly. "Tell me, you are... the Ashen Demon, correct? How is it that you and Jeritza came to be together?"

Ashen Demon? Jeritza wracked his brain as the name was familiar.... until it clicked. A fearsome warrior said to slay his enemies without remorse, his blank face in battle being the last thing many saw. He had never met the man himself as he lived a mostly stationary life now, not there were rumors of him and his mercenary band traveling Fodlan and dispatching of many gangs of brigands and bandits that tried to take advantage of wartime. Jeritza had been interested in him, for a time, dreaming of crossing blades with someone rumored to have so much skill with a blade.

He had a hard time believing that Byleth was the Ashen Demon, as he often fumbled with the knives while cooking dinner and he has pretty sure one day he overheard him singing children's songs to himself. The two just refused to connect as one in his mind.

"Yes." Regardless of Jeritza's mental gymnastics, Byleth answered. "He saved me and took care of me." Byleth was quiet after that and it stretched between all of them. The green hair man fidgeted slightly, unsure, as he realized slowly that Edelgard had wanted to know more than that; she would soon realize that getting too many answers from the man was like pulling teeth. "Bandits tried to capture me while I was traveling. I got away but they hurt me very badly and I was separated from my father and the rest of the band. He found me after I passed out and took care of me till I was healed."

"Bandits? Why would they try to kidnap you?"

Byleth gave a vague shrug. "I'm not sure. I think they took my sword, everything got so hazy in the end so it's hard to remember, but I'm not sure why they would attack us. We weren't even on any assignments, just traveling." Byleth seemed a bit frustrated at this. Whatever probing that Edelgard had wanted to do, she seemed satisfied now, and the conversation fell to quiet and idle chatter, mostly held aloft by Dorothea when she could pry some answers from Byleth or the Empress.

Eventually, they were released, left to go back to their rooms at the late hour. Byleth had pressed close to his side and taken his arm and hand, tense in his shoulders. Jeritza wanted to question him but something in the furl sitting on the other's lips kept his mouth closed.

The room was quiet when they entered. Byleth bolted the lock but didn't relax. The girl was back, floating, staring at one of the walls of the room. It was decorated with paintings and banners, an armoire pressed against it for storing clothing and spare linens. Jeritza felt tense now, too, and moved to check the fire as Byleth sat down the bed. It was quiet between them, Jeritza's back to Byleth, then the bed creaked and quiet footsteps stopped behind him.

He flinched when arms wrapped around him, almost reacted out of reflex to push the other away. He felt Byleth's nose nuzzle against the back of his neck, chapped lips press quick kisses to the bare skin there. Jeritza was frozen, a statue, as those kisses trailed from his neck to his ear. Warm breath against him that made a shiver run down his spine.

"They're watching." Quiet, so quiet, followed by a lingering kiss before Byleth pulled away. He walked over to the dresser, the box from earlier and basket of bottles still there. Byleth picked through them quietly while Jeritza collected himself, stood up straighter. Watching? Who? The girl in the corner was still glaring at the wall. He wondered what she saw that he didn't.

Jeritza was pulled from this by Byleth turning around, one of the bottles wrapped demurely in his hand, the insides pink. He was glancing down at his shoes, shoulders drawn together. An act, a fake, as this was not Byleth being timid, he could tell, but to anyone who did not know the man... perhaps a convincing lie.

"I.... I told that we have not.... consummated our marriage yet." Byleth was projecting his voice, somewhat. "Earlier at tea. I know that I don't know exactly how it all works... but... they said it would feel good and... they gave me these. You've been so patient and kind with me.... waiting.... and.... would you?" 

Byleth offered the bottle, looking up at him with flushed cheeks from under his lashes. It was fake, fake, fake and something about that made him angry. It upset him more when he cupped Byleth's cheek, took the bottle and leaned in to crush their lips together. Something acrid and sour roiled in his mind, hating this, all of this, how false it was. He kissed Byleth like he fought, all teeth and no softness, chasing down the confused noises of the other man with his tongue.

Byleth pushed on his chest and when had they ended up on the bed? When was Jeritza over him, devouring him? Byleth seemed flustered, for real now, when he pulled back, untangled himself from the other.

"They're gone, now." Still quiet, back to normal, even if Byleth licked his kiss bruised lips and had blossoms of sucked bruises on his neck. When had Jeritza done that? He pulled himself away and went to wash his face, needing a moment to himself and to sort things out. This was infuriating. Horrible.

Why did it upset him so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooo stuff is slowly spicing up!
> 
> lemme give you guys, like, a rough timeline of events? cause it'll be a lil bit more prominent from here on out. also some major diffs from canon to here
> 
> \- el still seized control around the same time and the war started, but it was more to flush the 'monsters' out and capture them, who were in faerghus, which ofc caused small scale war  
\- she gets them and the war ends and has been ended for a little over two years at this point  
\- it's about 1 year after the time skip in-game, so when the war would NORMALLY end if you were playing
> 
> \- it's peacetime but still kinda tense between the empire and kingdom. the alliance wasn't rly involved in the conflict  
\- everyone IS alive here! rhea still did Things, more on that later tho, but she didn't have the backing of being the Pope of her own religion, so she didn't have as much power.   
\- Since El just wanted to flush her out, she never became the Flame Emperor. Duscar bad stuff still happened, but Dimitri never blamed El for it. El also never teamed up with Slither but still hates them.
> 
> \- canon is dead long live bylitza
> 
> feel free to ask me questions in the comments or dm me on twitter! i like chatting about stuff! c:

**Author's Note:**

> hey! i wanted to hurry up and post this, but my betas are reading it rn! don't be surprised if you come back later and things look a little different!
> 
> chapter number is tent 6 rn
> 
> wanna talk bylitza??? i'm on twitter!!
> 
> https://twitter.com/FableButt


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